Untitled
by half.hakujin
Summary: Gaara's mom, Karura's POV on the Third Kazekage, Gaara's dad; on the last part of her life. Horrible summary, better story :D
1. Chapter 1

Okay so this is basically a TOTALLY made up story about Karura, Gaara's mom, and ummmmmm i guess what happens to her. There's like almost no info on her, so everything i detail that isn't from Naruto is FICTIONAL. It's pretty short. Like, I know I'm rushing this a bit. But ummmmm enjoy!

**Disclaimer: Naruto is owned by dude. I am not him.**

_The sun was shining on the day she died. There was no fanfare over her passing. No complication. The complication was from the life she gave, not the death she took. And he was there, letting it all happen._

He was a year her senior. She watched him train in the courtyard, passing glances that she knew would lead nowhere. She didn't plan to become a kunoichi. She was being trained in two ways, one at home. Her father's restaurant was her battleground, and she enjoyed fighting there rather than the shinobi world. But still, had she been in his year, she would've continued to train as long as he, just to stay near him. As it was, she would always be a bit behind him. That was probably why she didn't notice that all those times she'd peeked at his perfect form and strike, he was looking back.

She was 15, and green to the world. She knew nothing of love, only that it seemed a far and unattainable thing. So when he took her lips the first time, she fell completely and unshakably under his spell. And that was how she continued to love him. Admiration overshadowed any real love; her constant elation that he'd chosen _her -_ with her small eyes and thin frame and weakness - was what she confused with love.

They were at a celebration of the Kazekage's. He had approached her, so casually and off-handed that she felt he had begun talking mostly to himself. When he said he would become Kazekage one day, she agreed whole-heartedly, remembering his prowess in the shinobi arts. She had _not_ recognized that ability was driven by violence. He seemed happy she agreed with him. He talked to her the rest of the night, looking at her as though in a new light, as though she was suddenly beautiful. She imagined herself the luckiest girl in the world, and gazed into those dark eyes like the universe lay behind them.

He walked her home. Did he know her name? She knew his - Iwao, Iwao, Iwao.[1] It meant "stone man" and was he ever![2] Just when she would begin to doubt his love, he would rgab her chin and pull her into a kiss that made the ground slip away from her. But then he'd be marble. Cold. His brows knit together as he fired kunai. She recalled having a conversation with him as shuriken drew a circle about her head. She trusted him, though, and never flinched. Somehow, without either of them noticing it, he had made her stronger. His aloofness hardened her emotions, his intelligence had pushed her to learn. It didn't register until her father told her she needed to be warmer to the customers.

She was stunned. Talking to people had always come easy, but when she reflected upon it, she realized her small talk at the tables had turned a bit....small-talky. She had trouble communicating with her parents. It scared her. She spent some time away from him, and relearned the warm touch of sensitivity.

She angered him with her absence.

That night she was to receive the first of his blows. It shocked her, and his repentance seemed genuine after, as though he too was appalled by his own actions. But that opened the floodgates. What was one became two, and each time he'd apologize and she's forgive him, because the false love that bound her was too strong to let go. She couldn't imagine being without him, breathing without him. So when he brought her back to his house, she allowed him to pull her in farther then she thought she'd be willing to go.

Was it his first time also? He was rough. He was tender. It amazed her, how his apparent love could fill her up like this, make her feel as though her heart would burst with emotion. She was so in love, so foolishly caught in his net. She thought this bliss was what he could give her.

He proposed. She said yes in a blink. They were married swiftly, so young still. She was 18 now, and he was a jounin.[3] Impossibly good. So when the Third Kazekage mysteriously vanished, it was a clear choice to elect him Kazekage, although he was extremely young. The people loved him, or so she thought. It had been fear, knowing he was so impossibly powerful that kept everyone in line. She saw less of him. When she did, she began to get a certain kind of feeling.

This feeling was that she was his opposite, and he kept her as though to balance out his chakra. That though she loved him, he only liked her. Enough, though. Just enough for her to hold on in desperate hopes that she could make him love her.

She was stupid, so stupid. Lovestruck little fool, she'd tell herself, you need to get out of this. He hit you. He _hits_ you. That is not love.[4] But she was also stupid enough to ignore that smart comment. She stayed.

And she got pregnant.

Temari. Her little girl was born a shinobi. Kankurou. Mommy's little boy was his father in form, a cute little imp she often had to rescue from Temari.

But the last child was everything. The son she never knew would be her last child, her last love.

* * *

[1] - he doesnt actually have a name. this is made up.

[2] - wait until her second son is born!

[3] - we dont really know their ages at any time, but in Gaara's memory when we first see his daddy, he looks pretty young. So.........yeah.

[4] - loveisnotabuse.c om; reminded me of this.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWOOOOOOO! and last.

**Disclaimer: Geez. Can the first one count for all the chapters?**

_He was perfect. She was lucky the last thing she saw was so beautiful._

When she became pregnant for the third time, Iwao seemed happy. At least, what she had learned to recognize as happiness from him. He was as "happy" as the other two times. She was into her fifth month when Yashamaru came to her. She hadn't seen her brother for quite some time, as his shinobi missions kept him away, and then he would be out with friends. He was closer to them than his own sister. She had to blame herself, though. She isolated herself in the light of Iwao's affection. And then the kids occupied her.

Yashamaru came quietly, at night when the Kazekage had left her alone. She embraced him, inhaling the sweet of sun that he always seemed to radiate. She was so glad for some other person in her life. He seemed unaware that she was so lonely in this house full of cute, energetic kids. His message erased any of that emotion, anyway.

Iwao, he explained as carefully as he could, was planning to use her unborn child as the new host for Shukaku. She may have fainted. All she knew was the next morning, she looked at her sleeping husband in a new light. She asked her heart, unhappily, if it still cared for him. But since she had never really been in love (for one has to be loved _back_ to be _in_ love), her heart could give her only an uncertain answer.

She knew she could not truly love someone planning to curse her baby this way. And yet, how could she know? How could she tell if he was planning this or not? Yashamaru probably just heard gossip. He was overreacting. This calmed her mind. Iwao woke and treated the day like another. He kissed her goodbye, patted her stomach and ruffled the kids' hair. He was the same, the same as always. How could he hurt something so innocent and gentle?

And then she remembered that he'd hit her. _Hurt_ her.

She began to fear the safety of her children, born or not. And yet, watching them with him, she felt as though they truly belonged to him, like she was not a mother but a ghost. She cared for them, changed them and fed them and cleaned up after them, and they loved him.

She tried to lose that resent, but it gnawed at her psyche, like a poison. She could see, obviously, why someone might love him, but she could not see why no one seemed to love her. And then, at the end of her eighth month, he sat her down.

He would be using the little baby in her, he said seriously, as a host. The village was poor. They needed power. They needed this, and that.........and she screamed at him. How? She fell into a void so complete, her body was about ripped apart by her sorrow. Her tears did not move him. He slapped her across the face - and she spat at him something about not harming the baby, and how that was SO responsible of him, not going for a kick. He went to bed, and she let the shuddders fill her. When the cries were quiet, and her body was once again under control, she stood.

She packed things. She looked at her sleeping children, as of yet unaware of her torture. She kissed them goodbye, and they smiled in their sleep. She had no tears left for them, however. She couldn't feel anything. Not even leaving them behind. She knew they would be strong.

And she left.[1]

The sands were strong, as though it was following the Kazekage's orders to keep her in. But she trudged through, silently apologizing to the baby battered in her belly. It was a cool night, perfect weather for someone who had no shinobi experience in the desert. She would've died during the day, but as it was, midnight comforted her steps. If the sands were to keep her, the sky was to free her.

She was almost at the break of the Land of Wind when fate betrayed her. Her water broke. Why? she shrieked at the sky, for what was she to do now? She sat, and could do nothing. Her baby........she was letting him down. The contractions rocked through her as the dawn enveloped her, trying to still the spasmatic pains.

She was lying, shaking, when they found her. She was back so much faster than she had taken to leave. They were carrying her in a stretcher, as the clouds watched her and the winds caressed her, breathing on her as to cool the hot pain of labour.

The sun was shining, as it did in the desert. The sun was shining when her world faded into monotone colours and blurred movement. Was that Yashamaru? Iwao? So many people. All she could feel was the pain, and then...release. She saw him, and then, closing her eyes, she saw blue skies, and sunlight. His face, his perfect little visage, floated in that sky, above her. Her mouth moved. Did they hear her?

"Gaara..." she breathed, anger and hurt on every syllable. "My son....save Sunagakure....this wretched place....save yourself. Love is not.....real. You are...Gaara[2]. This place does not deserve....the life it stole from you."

Later she would be quoted as cursing Sunagakure, and hoping her son would avenge her. This was not true. All she wanted him to know was that the village had betrayed her, and taken his life before it was lived. She wanted him to know it wasn't right. Let him know she loved him, even for that brief space in time where their eyes met.

* * *

[1] - i dont think she actually left. but since we dont know anything about her, i thought i'd throw it in.

[2] - Gaara means like "a demon who loves only himself" or something, so she'd be saying he should love only himself to save the pain she felt by loving and not having that love returned. (she loved Iwao, her kids, the village.....)


End file.
